Half the Fun
by Panamint
Summary: Twelve studentsincluding Dick, of courseare chosen to go on a threeweek trip to Mexico. But you know what they say: getting there is half the fun...
1. Chapter One

_**Half the Fun…**_

_I must give credit to the show _Full House_ and the movie _Bon Voyage, Charlie Brown (and don't come back!) _because that's where I got this idea in the first place. So if you recognize parts of this, ya know why. OH and I don't own either of those._

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Alfred or Bruce or Dick (aw, nuts!) and I don't own American Airlines. But I DO own everybody else, especially Robin Bowillow. She's one of MY Secret Super Spies and demanded to make a guest appearance in a Bat-fic (she's a bit obsessed. Like me.) To learn more about her, go read my original stuff. You can find the address in my bio, which you'll read or ELSE… ;)

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_How can teachers talk so much? _he thought. _They must REALLY like the sound of their own voices!_

He felt as if he had been sitting there forever. It might as well have been forever; the teacher's voice droned on and on and on…

_She could at least put a little heart into it!_

The extremely bored ten-year-old glanced across the room at Jesse Wilder. Blond-haired Jesse was not only the smartest guy in the class, but he was also the brother of the most popular, fifth-grader Matt. Both brothers had even been the presidents of their classes since the third grade, from what he had been able to pick up from conversations in the halls.

He sighed. He had only recently been enrolled in this school and had yet to make more than one friend. And with the way things were going, he wasn't about to make any more anytime soon. He just didn't fit in with the other kids. Why couldn't he be more like Matt or Jesse…?

"Dick!" the teacher fairly yelled, trying to get her daydreaming student to pay attention. "Dick Grayson, I asked you a question!"

Dick snapped to attention. "Uh… yes, Ms. Whitman?"

Ms. Whitman shook her head in frustration. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you, Dick?"

"Well… no ma'am," Dick admitted sheepishly. Several of the other kids in the class giggled, thoroughly enjoying the sight of their new and slightly unusual classmate in trouble—again.

Ms. Whitman sighed. Turning to the rest of the students, she asked, "Can anybody tell Dick what we were just discussing?"

More than a few hands shot up instantly, making Dick feel all the more ridiculous.

"Yes, Jesse?" Ms. Whitman said. Dick cringed. Of all the people in the class, she had _had_ to pick the smartest!

_Who wants to bet she did that on purpose? _Dick thought with a little sigh. Sometimes, it seemed as if everybody in the whole entire school was against him!

"Ms. Whitman was just saying how she was planning a three-week Spanish course for us," Jesse said. Dick wished he could be more like him, but it wasn't exactly easy when the kids called you 'Circus Boy' all the time. Not that that was a bad thing, but when they said it…

"Thank you, Jesse Wilder," Ms. Whitman nodded with a slight smile of approval. "Yes, I am planning a Spanish course for all of us—ALL of us—and if you each get at least 90 on the quiz at the end, I'll have a special surprise for you."

"In other words, Grayson, don't mess us all up," said Billy, who sat to the left of Dick. The others snickered and Ms. Whitman turned a disapproving eye on them. Dick could feel his face burning and was quite tempted to throw a punch at Billy. After all, wasn't it Billy who had started all the trouble? Wasn't it just last month that Billy had informed the entire school that Dick was formerly a circus star, and then proceeded to announce that only freaks were in the circus? Yes, Dick thought, he'd give just about anything to throw a punch in Billy's stuck-up face right about now.

"Now," said Ms. Whitman loudly. "Let's begin our Spanish course by learning a few of the more common verbs. Repeat after me—_hablar_, to speak: _hablo, hablas, habla, hablamos, hablan…_"

-

A month later, Ms. Whitman's fourth-grade class had finished their Spanish course. Grace Winslow—the only friend Dick had managed to make in the past five months—was handing the test papers back along with Nichelle Applegate. Both girls looked rather fidgety and nervous as they placed the papers face-down on the students' desks. They knew that the only way they'd get the surprise was if everyone had gotten at least a ninety… but there was a problem. What if it was a good surprise and someone failed? And what if the surprise was another pop quiz and everyone passed?

They could only hope that things had occurred in their favor.

Once all the test papers had been passed out, Grace and Nichelle sat down and waited for Ms. Whitman to tell them it was alright to look at their scores.

"Now, class," began the middle-aged teacher. "I would like to start out by congratulating the students who DID get over a 90. That was about… five of you."

Dick groaned with the rest of the class. Five out of twenty-three got an A? That was sad. No, pathetic. He just hoped that his score was at least an A-, or Robin's training would probably grind to a halt for about three weeks, or until his grades were back in the As again.

"However," continued Ms. Whitman above the moaning. "I don't think it's fair for the five who worked hard and got As to be punished just because no-one else did. Therefore, along with Miss Eugene and her seven A-students from the fifth grade, I am taking my five A-students on a three-week trip to Mexico."

"Oooh!" "Wow!" "Cool!" "Neato!" "Yay!" cried the class at various intervals, causing Ms. Whitman to hold up her hands for silence.

"Now, I'm going to write the five A-students names on the board. After I do, you may all look at your grades."

Dick could feel butterflies fluttering around his stomach. If he aced this test, he was going to Mexico. If not, he was stuck with a substitute for three weeks. Probably with Billy, Dylan and Peter, too, if he knew them.

Ms. Whitman wrote the first name:

_Jesse Wilder_

Now why didn't that come as a big surprise? Of course Jesse was going. He always got As. He probably got that highest mark out of everybody, too.

The second name appeared:

_Nichelle Applegate_

There was an excited little squeak from Nichelle as she read her name.

_Tina Kelley_

As Tina celebrated silently with pumping fists and mute cheers, Dick could see his chances getting slimmer. If his name didn't show up soon, he would have to explain to Bruce—and, horror of horrors, Alfred!—exactly what had gone wrong and why. That wasn't something Dick _ever_ wanted to do.

Luckily for him, the next name Ms. Whitman wrote on the board was his own:

_Dick Grayson_

All the black-haired boy could do was heave a great sigh of relief.

Now that Robin was in no immediate danger of getting his wings clipped, he had room left to hope for Grace Winslow. She was his only friend outside of the Haly Circus, and three weeks without her would be pretty lonely, even in Mexico.

Ms. Whitman wrote the final name on the board:

_Joey Sanders_

Dick's face fell a little in disappointment. Grace wasn't going while this idiot Joey was? How unfair could the world get, anyway? He was stuck with Joey Spitball-thrower for three weeks.

"Now you may look at your grades," said Ms. Whitman.

Dick flipped his over without hesitation. In red at the top of the page was… a 100?! How the heck had he gotten everything right when he has _guessed_ half the time? Not wanting to tempt fate, Dick put the paper in his desk.

When he looked up again, Tina was handing out little slips of paper to the five A-students. When Dick got his, he stared at it in half-concealed horror—permission slips! The one thing he had forgotten to count on—the appearance of those dreaded papers!

How did Ms. Whitman actually expect him to get Alfred's _permission_ to go to another country? Bruce was simple enough to get past—a few rounds of begging and the puppy-dog-eyes look and you might as well be packing your stuff already—but Alfred was a different matter altogether! Dick could see his three-week vacation slipping away before his very eyes.

-

"I only missed it by one point," Grace was moaning on the way to recess that afternoon. "_One more point_ and I would have been going with you. Now I'll be stuck with Billy and Dylan and Peter for three weeks."

"I really wish you were coming, too," agreed Dick, still disappointed.

"Oh, I'm sorry Dickie," Grace apologized. "I didn't mean to take away from what you got. I really am happy for you… and I heard that you got the highest grade out of the whole class!"

"Really?!" Dick answered in astonishment. "Even Jesse?"

"Yeah. I heard Tina telling Janice that he only got a ninety-five."

"Wow," said Dick, suddenly pleased. "And to think I guessed half the time!"

"If only I had guessed as well as you," sighed Grace.

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much," said Dick. "Alfred will never let me go anyway, so I'll be stuck with you."

"I hope not," Grace replied.

-

Much to Dick's surprise, Alfred was heartily in favor of the trip. He said it would be a very educational experience for the boy and would have signed the slip himself had he been the boy's legal guardian. And had Bruce not objected.

"It's absolutely out of the question!" Bruce was saying as Alfred observed silently.

"But why?" Dick whined.

"You are much too young to be going _anywhere _without adequate adult supervision, much less to a foreign country—and don't give me that look!"

"But Ms. Whitman and Miss Eugene are coming with us! Pleeeeaaasse?"

"I said 'adequate'. I hardly think two grade-school teachers are 'adequate'. And I told you not to give me that look!"

Dick didn't lose the puppy-dog eyes or the pout he always wore when he wanted something badly enough.

"But Alfred's right! It could be educational, and you're always saying how—"

"I also said you couldn't go! Now that's final!"

Dick looked at the ground and swallowed hard. What had he done to deserve this?!

At the pitiful expression on his ward's face, Bruce could feel his heart melting. How _did _that boy do that??

Bruce sighed deeply and said, "Don't forget to write."

Dick's head shot up, the begging expression gone and replaced with a smile as bright as sunshine.

"Really?!" Dick raced over and threw his arms around Bruce's waist. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK you!"

Before Bruce had a chance to react, Dick was racing up the stairs, muttering very loudly about what he should bring with him.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Alfred was giving Bruce a rather amused 'you old softie' look. When Bruce caught sight of it, he defended himself:

"What? He's right—it could be educational. And as Robin, he'll need to have a wide range of knowledge about a broad variety of subjects…"

"Of course, Master Bruce," said Alfred knowingly.

**_End of Part One_**

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**And don't forget to review!!! XD**


	2. Chapter Two

**_Half the Fun..._**

**_Part Two_**

**DISCLAIMER: Ditto.**

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Dick and the other A-students from his class—Jesse, Tina, Nichelle and Joey—were lined up in a neat, orderly fashion in the waiting area at Gotham International Airport… well, they were as organized as a bunch of fourth-graders can get, anyway. 

Actually, Joey was throwing his world-infamous spitballs at Nichelle, who was trying to ignore them while talking to Tina, who was making lovey-dovey eyes at Jesse. And Jesse was trying to carry on a conversation with Dick while waiting for Miss Eugene's fifth-grade A-students to arrive.

"Tina told me that you got a perfect score on your test," Jesse was saying.

"Uh, well… most of it was just luck…" Dick explained, all the while thinking what a blabbermouth that Tina was.

"I don't think so," replied Jesse. "Matt—my brother—used to tutor you in math, right?"

"Yeah…"

Where was all this headed? And why was such a big-shot like Jesse talking to _him_?

"Matt's always saying how smart you are, and how quickly you catch on to things. All the other kids he's tutored took at least three weeks to get the hang of it—you only took one."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Dick just stood there. How could the two smartest boys in the school be saying that he was actually intelligent? Well, Bruce was always telling him the same thing, but Bruce was his legal guardian. He was supposed to say things like that.

Finally, Miss Eugene made her appearance, along with her seven students—Robin, Valerie, Simone, Hannah, Clarence, Pete and Matt. They lined up next to Ms. Whitman's students; Robin instantly stood near Dick.

"Say…" she began, staring. "You LOOK familiar…"

Dick looked at the blond girl with the boyish cut. "Sorry, you must be mistaken. I'm very sure I've never seen you before."

Robin squinted her green eyes. "Are you _sure_?! You look suspiciously like a younger version of somebody I saw on TV this morning… Burt, uh… Burt _somebody_…"

"Sorry," Dick said again. He shrugged, as did the curious Robin.

"Alright now, children!" Ms. Whitman called. When she was sure that she had the students' attention, she continued, "Line up in two straight lines—boys on the left, girls on the right… that's it… now be sure to stay together…"

Both Dick and Jesse were near the end of the boys' line. Therefore, when Jesse dropped his ticket and stooped to pick it up, the only person he was holding back was Dick. As soon it was safely back in his back pocket, he apologized for delaying the other boy—who said it wasn't a problem—and they both ran to catch up with the rest of the class.

That was what began the whole thing.

In their hurry to get back to their teachers, both boys forgot to look where they were going. As a consequence, they soon ran into a couple of girls who weren't much taller than they were. All four parties went down.

There were cries of "Hey! Look where you're going!" and "Sorry! My fault!" as the four of them scrambled around, picking up the airline tickets before they missed their planes. Dick didn't even get a very good look at the two teenage girls with… pink hair?... as they marched off in a huff.

Jesse was sticking the plane ticket back in his pocket a second time when Dick asked, "Which gate do we go to?"

"It should say on the tickets, shouldn't it?"

Dick checked. "Gate nine," he announced.

When the two tardy children arrived at the gate, they looked around in confusion. Where was Ms. Whitman? Where was Miss Eugene?

"Maybe they've given up hope of ever finding us and have already boarded the plane," Jesse suggested with a sarcastic grin. Dick smiled back.

"Let's board. Maybe we'll find them," he said.

"And get our ears boxed," Jessed added in a mumble.

"It's better than getting stuck at school with a substitute for three weeks," Dick reminded him. "Let's go."

They handed their tickets to a young woman standing near the entrance to the tunnel that led onto the airplane (A/N whatever the stupid thing is called.)

Once on the plane, both boys looked around. They couldn't see the teachers or the students anywhere.

"Maybe we oughtta ask a stewardess or something…" Dick said uncertainly. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Nah!" Jesse scoffed. "Let's just sit down and maybe they'll show up."

Personally, Dick abhorred the suggestion, but he didn't want to say anything about it. It seemed that he was teased every time he opened his mouth these days, so Dick found it better just to keep quiet outside of Wayne Manor.

"Umm… I think we have seats 279 and 281, but let's just sit together," Jesse said. "And I get the window seat!!"

Jesse dashed to a vacant chair and plunked himself down on the navy-blue cushion. Dick sat next to him without argument. Not that he _wouldn't_ have liked the window seat…

Twenty minutes passed and there still wasn't a familiar face in sight. Dick began fidgeting nervously in his seat. Even Jesse looked worried.

"Maybe we_ should_ ask a stewardess…" Jesse mumbled uncertainly.

The words 'I told you so' died on Dick's lips as a friendly female voice began talking over an intercom of some sort:

"Welcome aboard flight 221-D! I am Jennifer and I will be your stewardess for this flight. In front of you, there should be…"

And Jennifer went through all the usual, boring details about safety procedures, in-flight movies and when the so-called food would be served. Then:

"Thank you for choosing American Airlines for all your travel needs, and enjoy your flight to Nome, Alaska!"

"WHAT?!" both boys cried, getting several stares and annoyed glances from the other passengers. After taking a look at the glares, Dick refrained from saying Holy something-or-other.

"Alaska??" Jesse hissed to Dick. "Somehow, I think we were supposed to go in the other direction! What are we gonna do?! Ms. Whitman will freak when she finds out… and my mom!! Oh, no…!"

"Stay calm—this is no time to lose your head," Dick said, although he sincerely felt like doing the same when he thought of Alfred's reaction to this latest disaster. "When we get to… Alaska… maybe we can call somebody to explain what happened."

"_Are you nuts?_" Jesse shouted in a whisper. "It would take days just for them to send us the money we needed to get home, and my parents don't have… but yours do!!"

"What?"

"When we get there, call Mr. Wayne. I'm sure he'll—"

"You're nuts!" Dick cried. He lowered his voice and continued, "If Bruce ever found out about this, he'd kill me for sure!"

"Well, he probably knows that something's up already. Ms. Whitman has most likely blabbed our disappearance to the world," Jesse muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah… you got a quarter? I'm out."

"Here. And don't worry about paying me back because we probably won't live long enough anyway."

"Good point."

-

The phone rang amazingly loud as Dick waited for someone to pick up.

"Wayne residence."

Oh, great. Alfred. And he had vouched for Dick only a few days ago, too!

"Oh, um… hi, it's me," Dick said. He fidgeted.

"Master Dick! Have you arrived in Mexico City already? We certainly didn't expect you to call until this evening."

"Well, uh… hehe… ya see, there was just a teeny-weeny little mix-up here…"

There was a sigh, and then, "What have you done _now_, Master Dick?"

"I think we went the wrong way…"

Jesse snorted. "No duh! We're in ALASKA, for crying out loud!"

"Shut UP…" Dick hissed, but it was too late.

"Did I hear correctly, Master Dick?" was the calm reply. Although it sounded to Dick like  
Alfred was having a hard time to keep from screaming.

"It's not my fault… really…!"

And Dick explained his theory on how they had managed to board a plane headed for Nome, Alaska. He could practically _hear _Alfred's disapproval, even over the phone in another part of the country.

"…so what are we supposed to do?" Dick finished.

"I suggest you tell the stewardess of your situation and have her arrange to get you back to Gotham City as quickly as possible."

"But we don't have any money. In fact, I had to borrow from another kid in my class just to make this call."

"Master Bruce will take care of all expenses, unless he sees fit for you to work off your debt," said Alfred.

Dick sighed. "Bye," he mumbled, and hung up. To nobody in particular, he groaned, "I am so dead."

"Yeah, well, just wait'll my mother finds out about this. And I don't even want to think about what Matt will say… for about ninety-nine years to life…"

-

"So much for our vacation," Dick mumbled.

"At least we didn't get punished, since it wasn't really our fault," replied Jesse in his usual optimistic manner. "We should have checked the tickets closer, I guess, but I'M not telling!"

There was silence as the two boys continued clapping the erasers. It had been Jesse's turn, actually, but Dick hadn't had anything better to do and volunteered to help.

"I never thanked you for helping me out of that mess," Jesse announced finally.

"_Me?_ Why _me?_" Dick asked in surprise.

"If you hadn't kept your head, we probably wouldn't have gotten home in one piece," the other boy explained. "Or at all, for that matter. So… thanks."

What was he supposed to say to that?!

Dick thought fast.

"Well… you did pretty good, too."

"Yeah? What did _I _do?"

"Um… you had the quarter…"

Both boys stared at each other and burst out laughing. It took them a full minute to calm down, and they only shushed then because Ms. Whitman was staring at them through the window as if they were insane.

Jesse cleared his throat and held out a chalk-covered hand.

"I gotta admit, Grayson, you're a pretty cool dude."

Dick grinned and shook his hand.

_**The End**_

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Me: …Did I just write that?! Er… insanity runs in the family!! Yeah, that's my excuse! It's genetic—blame my parents!! :) 

Kidding. Please R&R!!

Ohmigosh, wait a sec… did I just use the names Jesse and Joey in the same story?! I swear it was an accident—I didn't mean to steal anything else from _Full House! _I just took Jesse from another story I once wrote and then asked my sister to give me the first name she could think of for the last A-student, which happened to be Joey Sanders. For real!!! What do you mean, you don't you believe me?!

Dick: Can I do the replies now? I'm in a hurry.

Me: Oh, right. I'd just like to say... yes, that WAS a not-so-subtle reference to the sixties series you saw.

Dick: What did _that_ mean?

Me: Never mind. Just do the replies.

**_Reviewer Replies_**

**neoinean--**You're telling me. Glad you liked it, though. :)

**Bart--**Here it is! I hope you liked this one as much as the first, and I hope you appreciate what I went through for it.

**rammbo--**Thank you. And you're right, Bruce really is a softie, but don't tell him I said that or I'll probably be grounded for life.

**Syl--**Boy, Panamint has been feeling really warm and fuzzy lately, with all these nice reviews. Glad you like the story, and thanks for reviewing!


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